


The Only Thing I Know

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Flashbacks, Hell, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finally decides to let Castiel free him of his Hell flashbacks but only after almost killing him and Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Thing I Know

Dean thought he would be done with the flashbacks within a few months, but still they were coming in his sleep, when he closed his eyes, when he was staring at the road for too long. He could still feel the weight of a razor in his hand and every time he had a one night stand he pictured his partner on his rack. He needed it to stop. He hadn't slept a single night all the way through since Cas pulled him out of Hell, he hadn't even gotten his usual three or four hours a night.   
Sam was worried, as per always and Cas seemed to be hanging around a lot more often, but he wasn't mentioning it to them. Cas would want to remove the memories from his head and he hated it when the angel went digging around in there. Sam would only pressure him into talking about it like a seventeen year old girl. No, he was stronger than flashbacks, stronger than hell. He could, he would, get through this all on his own.   
Or at least that's what he thought when he wasn't in the midst of one.

Sam sighed from his spot in the passenger seat, reading over the news articles again, trying to get some kind of information on their next hunt. Kashmir was on the radio and it was loud, just like always, but as he turned, looked down at Dean, his brother wasn't head-banging to the addictive rhythm, wasn't singing along or lip syncing. He was barely even looking at the road even though he wasn't blinking, his eyes staring straight ahead. He was on autopilot and as Sam looked into his eyes he thought he could even see some of the fires of Hell.   
"Dean?" he asked, but there was nothing, no response. He reached out, grabbing the steering wheel with one large hand as the other clasped his brother's shoulder. "Dean!"  
Dean's reaction was to swerve the car, still in the majority of control and the Impala burned skid marks into the road as they sped onto the shoulder, but the momentum was in his fist as well as the black car. His fist connected with Sam's jaw, knocking him off of him. The car slowed on its own and finally stopped as one tire came into contact with a boulder. Sam would have been glad of that at least if he wasn't already out of the car, his brother dragging him out and throwing him to the asphalt.  
"Thought you could get away from my rack, did you?" Dean's voice was guttural, inhuman, and he was pacing around Sam even though it was a soul he was seeing, not his brother, "Maybe that little stunt of yours would have worked on some halfwit demon, but this is me you're dealing with."He lifted Sam by the lapel of his plaid shirt before bringing his fist down, that ring he always wore smacking into his nose with a crack and flash of light. Dean's knuckles were bleeding but he didn't seem to notice, more interested in the task at hand.  
The task seemed to involve the knife that Dean carried on his hip and Sam was trying to pull himself to his feet, his head still spinning with the pain and shock of a broken nose. He knew about what Dean had done in Hell and if he was seeing Sam as a forsaken soul, he knew pieces would be carved off of him. He ran, awkwardly, over to the other side of the Impala, pulling out his phone and dialing Cas up as fast as he could. They'd made a deal. Cas would come and take care of the punches Dean mindlessly threw until he finally buckled and let them help him out.  
Dean was fast though, faster than when he wasn't in Hell mode and Sam was so clumsy and he had so much mass to grab onto. Dean grabbed the back of his coat and yanked, slamming his brother's head against the Impala hood. The car was tough, it barely got a dent, but there was a ringing in Sam's ears and there were spots before his eyes and he couldn't concentrate on anything. He was slightly aware that Cas was trying to speak to him through the phone, which had landed a few inches from him, but that didn't matter too much. Nothing mattered as much as Dean's foot did and it was quite busy being thrust into his ribs. He was coughing, gasping, and crying out, and Cas sounded as concerned as an emotionally handicapped angel could be but he wasn't coming, he wasn't there.  
"I-90!" Sam finally cried out, realizing that Cas wasn't there because he didn't know where there was. "Washington! Forks!"  
Cas's hands were on Sam and then he was no longer there, lying on the ground, getting the crap beaten out of him by his brother. He was lying on the backseat of the Impala instead.   
Cas didn't stay with him for long, just touching long enough to heal the fractured ribs and the broken nose and than he was back out there with Dean, holding up two fingers to touch them lightly to Dean's head and wake him up. Even in his flashback Dean was fast though and he brought his knife up into Cas's ribs as he approached him. Their faces were inches apart, Cas's fingers even closer to the human's head.  
"Well, would you look at that?" Dean said, not even realizing his friend's motions, "I have a freaking angel on my rack. Oh the fun I'm going to have with you."  
Cas's eyes went wide and he froze, his hand just centimeters from Dean. An angel on his rack? So Dean must have known, must have known what had happened when Cas went down there to Hell, how long it took to raise him and what had occurred first. Cas thought he had erased all of those memories, but obviously they were still alive.  
Dean slammed him against the back of the Impala and there was a taste of iron in his mouth as he bit his lip. He was useless. He wanted to fight Dean, to get away, but he didn't want to hurt the man, either. He hated the idea that somewhere, somehow there was still a part of Dean that remembered their time in Hell. He felt anger, not for the first time but this was stronger than before and he wanted to rip Dean into particles for what he had done and was now about to do again.   
Sam was behind Dean though and he swung, hard. The butt of the rifle connected with Dean's skull, just behind the ear, and he was knocked out, unconscious. Cas stared at him, then looked up at Sam and then disappeared.

Dean was on his fifth beer by the time Sam got the nerve to talk about it. He sat opposite his brother, both of them on their respective beds and staring at the infomercial on tv before Sam finally spoke.  
"This has to stop Dean."  
"What the electric hedge trimmers? No. Those stay, those are awesome."  
Sam bent over and turned off the tv, "I meant the flashbacks."  
Dean looked down at the ground, "Yeah I know."  
"You were going to kill me today, Dean, you would have if Cas didn't show up."  
Dean took another sip of his beer, "Yeah where is the little guy, anyway? Normally he doesn't vanish so fast."  
Sam glared at him, tired of being interrupted, "You said you had an angel on your rack right after you stabbed him. You threw him into the Impala. He can't even fight you when you're like this, he's too afraid to break you. And when you said that, he looked scared."  
"Scared? But he's an angel. He doesn't do scared."  
"My point exactly. You had an angel on your rack back in Hell?"  
"No! I remember everything from Hell, but I don't. I don't remember torturing angels!"  
Dean stared at his beer some more and Sam stared at him, a large wrinkle etching into his forehead.   
"You should ask him about it." Sam advised, "And get him to stop the flashbacks. I know you said you're dealing, but clearly you're not."  
"Yeah, okay."

Dean didn't want Sam around for this so he'd left him back in the motel room to do some research. He was pretty sure that they were dealing with a banshee and that they wouldn't really have too much of a fight coming, banshees just warn people, they don't do any actual killing. He'd left a note and drove his baby out into the woods, where it was pretty secluded. There were dents in her and he knew those were his fault. The one on the trunk was from what he had done to Cas but there was one on the hood and it was large. He must have thrown Sam into the car too. He'd fix her later. He wished everything else was that easy to fix.  
"Cas?" he held his phone up to his ear, "I'm in the woods by Forks, can you meet me? I need you to stop these flashbacks. I wanted to deal with them myself but I… I just can't. Please Cas." He hung up and hoped that the angel would get the message, that he wouldn't just ignore it and, hell, that he knew how to check his voicemail at all.   
It was 10 minutes before there was a rustling behind him and he turned, seeing Cas walking around the trees towards him. He looked disheveled, jumpy, like he didn't want to be there at all and for once, he remembered personal space, stopping over a foot away from Dean.  
"Are you sure you wish me to dampen your memories of Hell?" he asked, squinting, his head tilted.  
"Yeah, Cas." He stepped towards the angel, closing the distance and Cas took a step back, keeping it there, flinching. He actually flinched. "Cas?"  
"My apologies. You're actions yesterday seem to have had a negative effect on me."  
"Yeah, well I attacked you. I said something horrible, didn't I?"  
"You remembered something I believed I had covered up. Do you remember having an angel on your rack in Hell?"  
"Not when I'm awake. It's probably something I know in my subconscious. You made me forget part of Hell? Cas, you have to tell me what it was."  
Cas looked away from him and Dean was certain he was about to poof on out of there. He took another step forward and Cas winced, shied away, and he'd never seen the angel look so small.   
"Cas. What did I do to you?"  
His eyes widened even further and his mouth opened but he said nothing. He wanted to leave, he had to get out of there and Dean could see the panic and fear in his face, looking so alien and strange there. He reached out and grabbed Cas's shoulder, ignoring how the angel tried to pull out of the way. It was the only way he knew to keep Cas there.   
"You were the one who dragged me out of Hell. The only one who got to me down there. I… I tortured you, didn't I Cas? Ripped you apart on my rack over and over…" his eyes were burning and he blinked, feeling the wetness growing just behind the lids.   
"Dean." Cas whispered and his voice was so soft that Dean could hardly hear it.  
"You hated the fact that I hurt you, so you made me forget. You knew I wouldn't let you in if I knew."  
"Dean."   
"Cas. I'm… I'm so sorry. I don't know why you can stand being around me. I… I break everything I touch. I broke you, Cas, I broke everything."  
Cas touched his forehead and it felt as if the angel was forcing silk into his brain. It was cloudy and pale and it wrapped around his brain as a thin cloud before diving in, searching for the parts that contained his memories of Hell and wrapping around them. It didn't hurt, it was just a bit cold and startling and Dean found himself grabbing Cas's shoulder and wrist in surprise.  
Cas pulled away from him and Dean felt as if a weight had been lifted from him. "I stand beside you Dean because there was an order I received in Heaven and that was to save you. So I have and I will, for I still have faith in the man that you are and can become. I did not make you forget for my sake but for the fact that you would not be able to live with yourself knowing the truth. You would not be able to stand looking upon me."  
"Cas. I'm-"  
But the angel was gone, leaving a few leaves swirling in the space he had just been behind him.  
"sorry." Dean whispered to the air.


End file.
